The Heart of Betrayal Page 77


“Yes,” he said simply, and moved on as if the odds were a gulf that they would somehow navigate. He wasn’t sure exactly when they’d be ready to move, but they hoped details would be worked out soon. They were still investigating the best way to accomplish their task, and there were a few supplies they were having difficulty acquiring.

“The jehendra in the Capswam quarter has just about every kind of shop there is,” I said.

“I know, but we have no Vendan money, and it’s far too busy there to steal anything.”

I leaned over and felt for the leather pouch under my bed. It jingled as I placed it in Jeb’s hands. “Winnings from a card game,” I explained. “It should buy just about anything you might want. If you need more, I can get it.” Nothing could have given me greater satisfaction than knowing Malich might play a role in our escape.

Jeb felt the weight of the pouch and assured me it would be more than enough. He said he’d remember never to play me in a game of cards. From there, he spoke in gentle positives the way a well-trained soldier would, saying they would be acting as quickly as they possibly could. A soldier named Tavish was the coordinator of all details, and he would give the signal when everything was ready. Jeb downplayed the dangers, but the words he avoided rippled beneath the surface—the risk and possibility that we might not all get out.

He was young, only Rafe’s age, a soldier not unlike any of my brothers. Beneath the ragged clothes and dirt, I saw a sweetness. In fact, he reminded me of Bryn, a smile always tugging at the corner of his mouth. Maybe a sister waited at home for him to return.

I blinked back tears. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I am so very sorry.”

His brow creased with alarm. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Your Highness.”

“You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”

He placed both his hands gently on my shoulders. “You were abducted by a hostile nation, and my prince called me to duty. He’s not a man prone to folly. I would do anything he asked, and I see his judgment was true. You’re everything he said you were.” His expression turned solemn. “I’d never seen him so driven as when we raced across the Cam Lanteux. You need to know, Princess, he didn’t mean to deceive you. It tore at him.”

It was those words that undid me, in front of Jeb of all people, a near perfect stranger, and I finally broke down. I fell into his shoulder, forgetting that I should be embarrassed, and sobbed. He held me, patted my back, and whispered, “It’s all right.”

I finally pushed away and wiped my eyes. I looked at him, expecting to see his own embarrassment, but instead I only saw concern in his eyes. “You have a sister, don’t you?” I asked.

“Three,” he answered.

“I could tell. Maybe that’s why I—” I shook my head. “I don’t want you to think I do this a lot.”

“Cry? Or get abducted?”

I smiled. “Both.” I reached out and squeezed his hand. “You have to promise me something. When the time comes, watch Rafe’s back before mine. Make sure he gets out, and your fellow soldiers. Because I couldn’t bear it if—”

He put his finger to his lips. “Shh. We’ll all watch one another’s back. We’ll all get out.” He stood. “If you see me again, pretend not to know me. Patty clappers are not memorable.”

He gathered his cart, tossing a few patties into the hearth box, and flashed me a mischievous smile over his shoulder as he left, glib and cocky, shrugging off the dangers. So much like Bryn. This patty clapper was one I would never forget.

A terrible greatness

Rolled across the land,

A tempest of dust and fire and reckoning,

Absolute in its power,

Devouring man and beast,

Field and flower,

All that dared to be in its path.

And the cries of the snared

Filled the heavens with tears.

—Morrighan Book of Holy Text, Vol. II

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Sanctum Hall was decidedly quieter tonight. I could sense it even from a distance as we walked down the corridor. The revelry usually rolled across the stone floor to meet us. Not tonight.

I wanted to fish and see if Calantha had any suspicions of who she had sent up to my room, but she said nothing, so neither did I. I didn’t want to raise questions and mistrust where there was none.

As we got closer to the hall, the silence was palpable. “They fought, didn’t they?” I asked.

“That is the word,” Calantha answered.

“I saw a cut on Kaden’s hand.”

“And everyone’s waiting to see how the Komizar fared,” she said. I stole a sideways glance at her. She chewed on her lower lip.

“Why wouldn’t the Komizar kill him for that?” I asked. “He seems to tolerate no rebellion and holds the threat of death over everyone else.”

“Assassins are dangerous. It’s in his favor to keep Kaden alive. No one knows that better than he does.”

“But if Kaden’s dangerous—”

“He could be replaced by someone more dangerous. Someone not as loyal. There’s a strong bond between them too. They have a long history together.”

“As do you and the Komizar,” I said, digging and hoping for more.

She only replied with a curt “Correct, Princess. As do we.”

The quiet was awkward as I entered Sanctum Hall. Without the usual din, the whole room seemed emptier, or maybe that was just because tonight the clans, quarterlords, and other special guests weren’t filling every available corner. It was only the Council and servants. Rafe was standing at the far end of the table in the center of the room, talking to Eben. It was apparent that neither the Komizar nor Kaden had come in yet.

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